Warmth
by renegademechanic
Summary: Chell and Wheatley spend a snowy Christmas Eve together. Post-Aperture NSFW Chelley fluff with core Wheatley.


_Author's Notes: This was written as part of the Portal Secret Santa on tumblr for Madamstardust. I hope you like it! Apologies for this being so short and sweet but we_ were _only given a week and I think this is pretty decent for the allotted amount of time._

 _On another, related note: this will most definitely be the last Chelley piece I write. And because of that I tried to capture a lot of the homely cuteness and sweetness people look for in Chelley - I am by no means done writing Portal fanfiction (I still have longfics to try to complete someday), but I think that after the 10+ pieces of Chelley I've written over the years, my inspiration for the ship has quite literally run dry. So I hope this is a good enough story to say farewell with. And merry Christmas..._

.

 **Warmth**

.

"Oi! To your left, to your left! Just there! Under the trees. Did you see it? I saw it. I-I-I know probably- probably it was a bit difficult to catch that, on account of you actually facing the other, ha- _direction_ and all of that- but I just _saw_ it, on your left, exactly two-hundred-and-seventy degrees in _that_ direction, precisely three o'clock. And, update- I've just seen _another_! Oh, yes, I bet you can't believe that. I've just seen another. Yes. That's impressive. Careful, now, don't get too close, don't want to scare them off, now."

 _Crunch, crunch, crunch._

"Geeeetting closer- oh yes, I see the hole. There it is. Riiiight there. Are you- are you turning around? Is that what you're doing? So that you can- oh yes, good idea, that. Long range. Nice. I _like_ that. I like it a lot. Always liked to see a woman who can handle herself with a gun. Not- not that I ever doubted you, of course. Didn't mean to imply that. Didn't mean to imply it at all. _God_ knows I know better than anybody else about your, ah, _talents_ , mate. As we're both, uh, very well aware. That's it, now- breathe easy. Steady. Aim, aaaand, yes—"

 _CRACK. CHKKK. CRACK. CHCHHK._ Wheatley watched the shiny empty shells drop to the ground with an icy tinkle.

"— _Crumbs_! That was loud. But good, actually. You're a good shot. Wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of- of _that_ mess _._ If it was a hit. Was it a hit? I can't see. Turn around, will you, then, so that I can have a look too? Just turn around again. Not- not _bend_ down, I didn't say- ookay, you're bending down. Well, that means it's a hit. Well done! Brilliant. Not that I ever doubted you in the first place. _Complete_ confidence in you, mate. As- as you well know, because of the _vaaast_ amount of times we've been through this. Clearest shot in the state, you and I! Or- or well, you. You are. Yeah. Credit where it's due, and all of that. Haha! This is _nearly_ as good as last Sunday, when we—"

More rustling noises- Chell paused, peering through the swirling snow.

"When we—"

Wheatley felt her shoulders flex as the pack he had been strapped to slid from her back.

"When we caught our first- what are these, again? What's this called? Don't tell me, I'm gonna think of it- nearly have it, riiiight at the tip of my tongue. Um. Possum? No, that's not it, is it- _rabbit_! That's it. Rabbit."

He stared as Chell's face came into view. Her cheeks were rosy with cold and the thick, wool hat upon her head was already crusted with snow. He watched her nostrils flare with each breath, marvelling at the way it fogged up the air. Her crack lips formed a wide smile.

"Brilliant. _Proper_ good job, luv," he wiggled up at her and blinked- _plink plink_ \- proud. "Right then- better get a move on, if we want to be out of here before it gets too late. I-I-I know that we've got a quota to fill, but bloody hell, it's Christmas Eve. These two should do it, yeah? Mister- mister-what's-he-called, down there in the village with the smelly fish hands- I'm sure he wouldn't mind giving you the rest of the night off. Would be nice to have a little bit of time for some good old fun by the fire- keep ourselves warm, and all of that- what'd you have to say about that, eh?"

Wheatley wiggled his handlebars invitingly. Chell's already flushed cheeks went pinker still and Wheatley chuckled, pleased with himself.

"Well well, what do you know. Someone _is_ interested, after all."

She shook her head with a small huff of laughter before pressing two of her fingers to her lips. Wheatley knew this gesture, and was ready for her- she kissed them softly before bringing them down to the front of him where he could reach them with the front of his optic plate.

" _Muah_ ," he said, bumping it against them with a kissing sound.

Chell grinned back and Wheatley felt her shift the pack further into the snow so that he would not fall over before she turned and got to her feet. Wheatley watched the heels of her boots disappear into the snow and reappear with each step- the snow being about ankle-deep- as she climbed her way carefully down a slippery slope to the rabbit hole Wheatley had found. Being in the shadow of a line of towering fir trees, the space around the hole was dark and snowless.

Two little lumps lay motionless in the clearing. A job well done- not that she was ever doing a bad job. Wheatley had noticed that the woman was a natural, as had the townspeople- and they'd promoted her to something of a hunting connoisseur, in-charge of supplying most of the freshly-caught game to the town's butcher.

But hunting was something that did not come natural to Wheatley, and had taken a lot of getting used to. At first, he had trouble fully understanding _why_ on earth anyone would want to go walking around outside for a couple of boring hours in the snow when all the animals were so slyly hidden. It made everything white, and- being very unused to the concept of snow- the little core had wanted to avoid it at all costs. It was wet and cold and got inside of his casing _constantly_ and there was the ever-present fear that, if it became deep enough, he could get lost in it- in fact, he wasn't exactly sure what was stopping it from becoming so deep that it was even over _her_ head.

And it was _still_ snowing. All hope of green had been lost when Wheatley had watched the trees die- or he had _thought_ they were dying, only to discover that they were actually just shedding their leaves- weird, that was. Of course, he had an entire electronic database of anything and everything the humans who had created him considered common knowledge, but that didn't mean he'd had the bloody time to sit there and memorize every single file in the thing- there were some that he had missed. Like- most of everything about the outside world, actually.

Until he found himself smack-dab in the middle of it.

And so, he'd researched about hunting, too, for good measure- as he felt sure that they were going to be doing a lot of it, and- sure enough- they'd found themselves outside even on _Christmas._

She worked so _hard_. Wheatley felt bad- he was always watching her, watching her cook, watching her clean, watching her chop down trees and splitting wood- she was so _self-sufficient,_ and he was so envious of it. As a core living in a world he was now very ill-adapted to live in, he had to admit that he was growing increasingly empathetic toward what she had gone through back in that _place._ While out here, he faced no real threat, he could not imagine being faced with the challenge of not only outwitting the most dangerous supercomputer alive, but also trying to do it while trapped inside of a world she did not belong inside.

And it was that feeling of not-belonging that he hated. That feeling of being useless and _dumb_ \- it drove him _mad_ , sometimes. He tried his best, and it was still never good enough- _she_ was the one carrying him around, _she_ was the one carrying for him.

Until he found a handful- a very small handful, that was for sure- of things that he _could_ help her with- one of which was hunting.

Chell had not been on board with the idea at first. It had taken a lot of convincing on his part as to why he would make a good hunting partner- something that was very difficult to achieve, given his inability to carry his own weight, so to speak. But in the end, it was decided- she fashioned a little set of leather straps to her bag so that she could carry him- and Wheatley had set off with her on his first hunting trip.

Which he had buggered up, of course- how was he supposed to know that all of the little forest animals had such sharp hearing? Honestly, it was crazy- completely unprecedented. It had taken a few rather frightening 'shh's from Chell before he'd got the picture- he still found it difficult to remember to speak in the lowest-possible volume, sometimes. It took a lot of self-control.

In time, he'd proved himself- being all-eye (even if no brain), he _was_ rather talented at watching for things, and Chell had eventually benefitted from keeping him around as a kind of eyeball-in-the-back-of-her-head.

It was still snowing as Wheatley watched Chell kneel down in the clearing and place her shotgun carefully on the ground beside her. She picked up and examined the rabbits, pulling out a brown burlap sack from her jacket pocket, in which she deposited them carefully.

Wheatley shivered- the snow was beginning to fall faster, and what was worse, it was sticking to him. He felt ever so cold and wet and began to shiver inside of his casing, oscillating the small servos in his gyroscope to generate a little heat by means of vibration. This also aided in dislodging some of the accumulating snow on top of him, even if it only made it trickle further into his insides instead.

"Eugh," Wheatley groaned, hating it.

By the time Chell was back, a little mountain of it had formed on top of him. She wiped it off even without him asking- something that he was very thankful for, especially since it was becoming something of a worst fear out here in the wilderness, to find himself completely and totally suffocated in a large bank of snow- straightened, and heaved Wheatley and her hunting pack back over her shoulders.

"Rabbits?" Wheatley was saying as she began to walk, her feet making ever-deepening trails in the snow as she crunched through it. "See, I was right- and I'm getting better. Right? I am. Getting better at spotting them! And identifying these, um- animals. Oh, you just wait. Soon, I'll be able to identify them _all._ I'll be an old pro, and you'll be asking _me_ \- asking _me_ what they are, when we catch them. 'Wheatley, what did we just shoot?'- Well, I'll tell you. I've got a sharp eye, and you can rely on old Wheatley. Not a thing out here can hide from _me_."

She made a little huff of affectionate laughter- Wheatley felt her shoulders shake as she walked, burlap sack swinging in one hand and her shotgun held firmly in the other.

"Kind of stupid, though, aren't they? The little rabbits. Not the brightest things, running about all willy-nilly in the snow when _we're_ about- never even saw it coming! Sneaky, we are. _Stealthy._ Like a fox."

All around them the woods were silently whitening. Though Wheatley was sure it was still early, the endless expanse of towering fir trees made their path dark and he heard the small _click_ that accompanied Chell turning on her flashlight- a device which she'd persistently made clear she'd rather use on her own out here than with his help.

"Hm. That's a point to you- you've always been very stealthy, even in all of this snow. Quiet as a mouse, you are! I guess we can't blame them, really, when you and _I_ are on the prowl. Always did make a great team, I say. Why, even back _there_ —"

Chell's footsteps faltered and the core choked, realizing what he'd just said.

"I-I-I mean, um, I mean- um, _before_ \- when we- when _I-_ it, ah… nevermind."

It was a mistake he made far too often. She didn't want to talk about it, and he didn't blame her- what was he going to say on the subject that he hadn't already said? It was just redundant now, to bring it up. The sort of thing that mentioning just left a bad taste in your mouth, and he regretted doing it immediately, it being Christmas and all.

"S-sorry," he stuttered. "I'm sorry. That- that was a mistake."

She kept walking.

More snow kept falling. Darkness crept over the woods, and Chell moved forward with the same slow, deliberate pace. _Crunch, crunch, crunch…_

They couldn't be very far away, he thought. He'd kept silent ever since he'd apologized, but with a slight bump, Chell hitched her pack higher onto her back rather pointedly- she wanted to hear his voice.

It taken him a long time to realize that Chell actually _liked_ hearing him talk.

She was the only person who he had ever met in his entire life who did. Not that this was saying a lot, exactly- he hadn't actually _met_ that many people, and out of the ones he had he'd found just about all of them to be downright unpleasant. Humans often had this way of saying things that hurt just about as much as- well, someone _else_ who was just plain nasty that he could think of. Not _all_ of them, of course- he'd met plenty of nice ones- but Wheatley had had more than enough experiences where humans had decidedly treated him as nothing more than a useless bit of scrap metal, like a- a _machine_ without thoughts and feelings of his own, that he had come to appreciate the kindness Chell had shown toward him more than he'd care to admit. Even if it was (and he was sure that it was) sometimes only because she couldn't say what was _really_ on her mind even if she'd wanted to.

But she _was_ kind. He had not deserved redemption, and yet she had given it to him. She had saved him, and taken him with her when she didn't have to- and it gave him this constant, overwhelmingly nice feeling to know that he was _wanted_ for once in his life, and by the best, craziest human of them all.

Wheatley had been talking to her as she walked without hardly even thinking about what he was saying- it was nice, that he could do that, with her. He could talk as long as he'd liked, and she'd always listen- and listen dutifully, the kind of listening where he felt sure that she was always paying attention. He'd been so wrapped up in it, just how nice it was to be out with her and how beautiful the woods were beginning to look as the snow eased off and the moon and the stars came out- the world was bathed in white moonlight and the tiny crystals of snow surrounding them twinkled.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked her. "I mean- I'm not fond of this stuff. Neither are you, if I'd have to guess, seems a bit- a bit difficult to walk in, if I'm honest- but it is _pretty_ , all white and sparkly, and everything. Just as long as it doesn't get too high. Don't want it _too_ high, because that would be trouble- good thing it's stopping. Last thing we need is to arrive home only to find we've gotta break the bloody _door_ down."

He shivered as they approached the edge of the farm Chell and Wheatley resided on. The property belonged to one of the townspeople, but they had lent the small cabin out to her for the winter, as it was more of a summer home for them- Wheatley thought it was just about the coziest place he'd ever been inside. Chell liked it, too, he knew- especially when she'd got a nice, hot fire going and then she'd curl up on the sofa in a nest of woolly blankets, cat-like, and sip something he thought was probably called hot chocolate (judging by the name on the can).

Wheatley continued to shiver as he thought of a hot fire longingly. He was so _cold_. He thought he'd be used to it by now, but apparently not- by the time they'd reached the little steepled wooden house he'd started shivering nonstop.

"Ugh, I-I-I'm c-c-cold…"

Thankfully the snow had not yet reached the point of blocking the door, and Chell was able to unlatch the lock and pull it open with ease. The homely interior of the cozy little place illuminated a sliver of snow through the doorway and Wheatley saw a million crystal-white stars wink at him one last time before she'd trampled inside.

They were home, he thought with a sigh. It was always nice to be home.

*~\\\~*

"Gg-gg-god it's c-ccold, isn't it? _Brrr._ S-snow s-sure is cold. Who'd 'ave th-thought it, right? That snow is cold? Ha- well _sure_ , anybody who _k-knew_ already what it's made of- bits of f-ff-frozen water, falling from the sky, a-and all- but what about the r-rest of us that were caught at unawares? Like me? _Brrr._ What about us? C-could have warned me about that t-tiny little detail, yeah, the first time you chucked a s-snowball at me. That wasn't nice, eh? First off, 'oo goes around lobbing f-freezing b-b-balls of ice at one people for fun? And at pp-poor, tiny, _defenseless_ little Wheatley to boot- you're lucky I 'aven't g-got arms, luv. Otherwise, _w-watch out._ "

He'd waggled his handles as he'd said this last bit cheerfully- watching the way her face was brightening as the flames on the hearth grew in size and warmth. The room became filled with the sizzling of wet wood and the scent of burning cedar as Chell, who was now sitting beside him devoid of many layers of clothes, removed the blanket that was neatly folded against the back of the sofa and began to use it to scrub him dry.

"Now _t-this_ , I do like. _Ah._ I do like this. You can do this, any old time you want- _mmm_. Forget snowball fights and hunting, a hot cup of tea and a nice warm fire and this blanket and _you_ \- that's all old Wheatley wants for Christmas. Mm, much warmer, now. And you are doing a tremendous job of that, by the way- ha, that feels- ah, that feels rather _good_ , actually… static charge, and all…"

Chell had been rubbing the blanket behind his handlebar joints when he realized that it wasn't just the tickly, woolly sensation of the blanket that had felt so good. The friction of the blanket pulling against his hull was creating a mounting tension of static charge that tingled quite a lot against the sensors inside of his plating. The sensation was nice, and Wheatley squirmed- rolling his optic as he fought to keep quiet, not sure whether he wanted to laugh or moan or do a little of both.

It was not overwhelming, though, not yet- the gentle, pleasurable tingle was more akin to the feeling of having his hull gently massaged, and not like- well, the test euphoria, for example. _That_ had been something else entirely.

 _That_ had been pure, unaltered pleasure, and it still got his circuits all warmed up thinking about it- not that he was proud of what he had done, because he wasn't, but because thinking about _her_ making him feel that good was just- _wow._ With a little buzz, his internal fans kicked on, and Wheatley had to press a little shiver that came along with the thrill of it.

The only thing better than that thought was pleasing _her_ \- he _loved_ doing that. And it was this that he _dearly_ wanted for Christmas, like he had hinted at earlier- he wanted _her._

"You should keep doing this," he told her. "Please. Add that in. Yeah. _Please_ don't stop. Y-you know, ah, how much I like your hands," he blinked- _plink plink-_ and saw her look at him, feeling an accompanying surge of heat spike within his CPU and the fans redoubled their speed. She always had a way of making him feel so _warm_. "But this blanket is… whatever you're doing with it, it is _really_ nice—"

He'd rolled his optic again just as she went for the circular openings on the side of his case- they were _sensitive_ and she'd used the most staticky part of the blanket on _purpose_ and it tickled so much in just the right way that, despite trying to act natural, he'd _moaned_.

Which was a problem, then- or not so much a problem for him as he most definitely wanted this to happen- because once he'd done that, he knew he was in trouble, metaphorically speaking. And sure enough, he saw her eyes flash with a sudden burning desire, the kind of stare reserved only for those times when what followed were those particular evenings when Wheatley felt that he was finally able to fully pay her back for all the things she did for him.

Those very, very _nice_ evenings.

" _Nnngh_ ," Wheatley groaned again, on purpose this time, watching her eyes for that warmth to spark even more. "That tickles amazingly," he said in a heavy, seductive voice. "Like- _really_. That feels _good._ God, it scratches- in a- a-a very _very_ good way, luv."

Her nose flared, and though her cheeks had remained pink ever since they'd gotten home, they deepened their blush. Wheatley liked that- often, he'd do nothing but stare at her as he talked, like this. He liked to watch her and gauge her reactions- it helped him learn about human body language, which was important as his companion was one who had no other way of interacting with him.

Sure enough, the next thing he felt was her hand on his handle as she'd lifted him up into her arms, and he'd learned enough about her to know what this meant. It meant that the probability of him getting his Christmas wish was pretty bloody high- _especially_ if he played his cards right.

And he would- because, full-houses or not, he was an ace at this game. Wheatley knew just what buttons to press.

*~\\\~*

Their relationship was complex.

Because how could it not be considered as such, she thought. It was a wonderful thing, a _beautiful_ thing, she'd realized with time. They'd come so far- so far both mentally and physically from _that place._ So far from _her_ , and the danger and damage she'd unleashed on them both. Even Wheatley had been corrupted- something that she did not particularly like to remember- but she had forgiven him. A lot of things had changed- life has a way of making things slowly get easier. Life has a way of making you _heal._

Loose strands of hair from Chell's pony were slipping from their place tucked neatly behind her ear, falling to brush lightly against the core's faceplate. The ice-blue glow from his optic joined the flickering fire as the only real light in the cozy living room- the flashes of red, gold, and green from the handsomely-decorated Christmas tree in the corner illuminated only a small patch of the cedar walls behind it. She nudged her nose against Wheatley's face, squinting against the strength of his iris- letting her fingers wander as she comforted the little core. Her fingers found his back port and curled as she scraped gently, prompting Wheatley to shudder.

He always liked it when she touched him like that.

"Very nice, luv." His voice was quiet as if he were half asleep. He craned his optic forward, craving her touch, and Chell obliged- administering the first, real kiss of the evening, she sensed the minute vibrations of the core's optic shutters closing through her lips.

It was her who broke away first- Wheatley's eye opened and he smiled, and she mirrored him happily, pulling him closer onto her lap. A small fingertip traced the rim of his eye as the pad of her thumb ran along the length of his top handle.

The metal strained upwards under her touch, and the core shifted, his iris darting around inside of its case almost nervously. "Do you want to… _you know_ …" was all he said with the most adorably shy look on his face, his voice causing a small ripple of vibration to travel through her chest.

Her heart beat faster at the suggestion and before she knew what she was doing, she was leaning back against the sofa and pulling him on top of her- the weight of him heavy and exciting pressing into her belly. It sent a thrill that shot straight from her brain to her groin faster than thinking and then she was squirming in its wake, trying to undo her belt while keeping Wheatley steady with one hand.

"I-I'll take that as a yes, then."

His voice was so high and so _cute_ that it only made Chell more frantic- when she _finally_ got the thing _off_ she wiggled as hard as she could to get them down. A difficult feat with his weight on top of her she managed it somehow, now plainly half-naked on the couch in front of the fire with the windows wide open- but swirling snow was once again falling thick and fast and she doubted that anybody would be walking past in _this_ weather.

"On the couch?" Wheatley asked in surprise.

Chell nodded. Usually they did this in the bedroom, out of respect for the people whom she was borrowing the cabin from, but it was still so cold and such a stormy evening and it was _Christmas_ so she had decided no, on the couch was fine with her.

It was romantic. The firelight made the components inside of his casing shine back at her with little winking lights and the long shadows danced- the warmth was irresistible, too, washing over the pair of them like they were sharing a nice, hot bath.

 _On the couch,_ she thought, and nodded at Wheatley.

*~\\\~*

There had been times where she could tell what he was thinking- all the little occasions where Wheatley had been so reluctant to let his guilty feelings of self-doubt show through. They were the days where he was quiet and reserved and so unlike himself, when he'd shut her out and lock down into these periods of self-loathing. They nearly broke her heart, but she understood, and she pitied him- because the truth _was_ that he was somewhat helpless against the world he now found himself living in.

It was a world that he was just not built for, a world that she _was-_ and she knew he was jealous. It hurt him, to see her doing all of these things that he couldn't do and the sheer amount of things that she had to do _for_ him- she hated that he felt as weak as he did. Because no matter how well he hid it beneath his happy-go-lucky personality and never-ending tumble of babble and positive reassurance, she could tell- but what she had difficulty communicating to him was that it did not matter. Wheatley was perfect, just the way he was in her mind- she did not care that she had to do all of the work.

It wasn't like he required much from her, anyways. All he asked was that she take him with her when she went out, and that she didn't leave him alone at night- it turned out he was unnerved by the dark a lot more than he'd liked to admit, and she understood this. Both of them had already suffered enough nightmares to last a lifetime. Only once had she left him out overnight, and that had been because she'd gone through a difficult period shortly after she'd secured her new cabin home, when she'd loathed everything to do with _that place_ except for him, and had hated the fact that she _didn't_ hate the core- but acceptance had finally come, and Chell was okay with it.

That night had been the first they'd ever 'made love'- if you could call it that. There had been a long fight, in which he'd voiced how hurt he was that she'd been essentially treating him like a piece of furniture- that night ended in both of them reaching their breaking point. He'd cried, and she would have if she'd remembered how- and they'd ended up alone in the bedroom in the dark full of a whole mess of emotions and one had thing led to another and before either one of them had known what was happening, it was done.

She never regretted it.

She had thought, once, it might be nice to fall in love. She had envisioned a tall, handsome man, someone who could walk with her through parks and hold her hand, someone who would make her blend in when nothing else could.

That was not Wheatley. But Wheatley was more. Wheatley was _better._

 _*~\\\~*_

Wheatley's casing was warm to the touch, heated by the crackling fire and his internal, ever-cycling mechanisms- the little fans whirring away inside of him made him hum gently against her bare skin. She was not cold, either, despite the deepening storm the evening had brought- the light from the fire illuminated a bit of the snow that was falling outside of the picture window and she could see that it was falling thick and fast- not that she had the mind to pay attention to that just now. Right now, all of her razor-sharp intent was focused on the single other occupant in the cozy room- Wheatley, her friend, her _partner._

The blush he was bringing out in her was intense. They'd started kissing, and she couldn't stop- her body wrapped around him as tightly as it could as she traced the seams in the core's outer plating with her mouth, lips moving hungrily. It was so intimate, and so sensual, and _theirs-_ the only sounds that existed were the cracking pop of burning logs and the minute whirring of his components interlaced with her ever-increasing breath. The hairs on her body stood up, receptive with anticipation- and she broke the steady stream of kisses only to lie back and listen to him talk.

" _Man alive,_ that's nice, what you were doing," he said in such a quiet, sweet voice it made her melt. "Can't- can't say I've ever experienced you being so _fiery_ before. What's got you all riled up, eh? Is it _me_?"

She grinned, nodding, and he looked so ridiculously proud of himself it made her laugh.

"Oh, I know I'm _smooth_ , luv, there's no way to deny it," Wheatley continued, waggling his handle. "And bloody handsome, too. Now, luv- don't stop there, let's keep going- you've got me all excited for this, seriously. When's the last time we've even _done_ this? Feels like forever ago. And if I could be honest, I don't know about _you_ but _my_ mind's been on this for the better part of the day. Doesn't help that you look absolutely _dashing_ by the firelight, just letting you know how irresistible you are- wonderfully, one-hundred-percent gorgeous."

As he rambled she'd begun to slide the core gently down her body. This was a well-practiced routine of theirs, but Wheatley was right- something about tonight felt extra special. It was Christmas, and the addition of the warmth and light from the fire along with the fact that they'd decided to do it on the couch made the room feel full of magic, she thought as she maneuvered her legs to allow the core to slide down between them with a soft sigh.

"Oh, yes," Wheatley hummed, moving in.

It had taken her a long time to realize that this was something Wheatley genuinely enjoyed doing for her pleasure, and her pleasure alone- at first, she'd thought it was a way to escape how useless he felt, sometimes. This was the only way in which his mechanical nature confused her- she had thought maybe he would not understand human customs when it came to sex, much less be able to appreciate them for the depth of their meaning. But it seemed that he was out to prove her wrong, because with time it became very clear that he did enjoy doing this and received satisfaction from it beyond what one might get from completing some kind of chore- Wheatley understood the implications behind it and cherished them as yet more ways to further enhance their bond.

It made Wheatley happy. And, in turn, it made Chell happy, too- and as for his enthusiasm, well… it was cute and sexy and made her feel a lot of things that a small, mechanical eyeball of a robot probably should not have made her feel but she just couldn't _help_ it.

Her train of thought and ever-increasing sense of anticipation was broken by Wheatley popping his faceplate out to rest on top of the delicate, naked mound that was her pubic bone. He looked up at her, staring as he grinned, cocking his face- he was studying her, searching for any signs of apprehension or nervousness, but all he got in reply was the sight of Chell squirming and biting her lip.

"Ready when you are, luv."

Chell couldn't help it- he was so _happy_ , so _innocent_ \- it was more than she could handle and her whole body shook. The resulting twitch of her hips and arch of her back satisfied Wheatley and finally, he dragged the plate backwards ever so gently across her skin, producing a delicate little scraping sensation and she swore to _god_ she could feel every microscopic groove in the thing...

She squirmed harder. "Oo, liked that, did you?" said Wheatley cockily, but Chell wasn't paying attention. His plate had come to rest directly on top of her most sensitive parts and she bit her lip, arching more and aching for him to continue.

And so he did- he started with little bumps that made the blood rush in her ears and heat pool in her belly. The hot feeling only increased, and her fingers scrabbled at the cushion beneath her to find something to cling to. She had no idea how the core managed to excite her like this so efficiently- all she knew was that, whatever he was doing, he was _good_ at it.

Was he ever- that little optic plate twisted slightly against her bare skin as he chuckled. "Heh heh heh. Could spend all night here like this, draw it out. That'd drive you mad, wouldn't it, luv? Wouldn't it?" He leaned onto her further, bumping against her with a little kissing sound. " _Muah_. I wouldn't mind, luv. I do love it here, you've got such nice warm legs. Mmm."

He wiggled again before stopping and looking up at her.

Slate-grey pleading eyes met the soft phosphorescence of his optic, and Chell blushed hard.

"Tell ya what," he chuckled. "I'll pick up the pace- but in a moment. I want to enjoy this too, luv."

More stroking with the optic plate. The way he moved it was almost like little licks- it made her hips twitch again and her breath catch. More pressure, and she felt the wetness begin to seep out of her, sticky against his front- she knew she'd have to clean his face for him after.

"You're quite moist tonight, _babe_ ," Wheatley whispered between strokes, eyeing her with such a heavy optic it made her feel even more tense- "Mm. I do love a good lubrication. No harm in that- much easier to work with. Veeerrrrry nice and smooth. Verrrrrry sexy."

His face pressed in further, and she could swear she could damn-near feel the very hum of the components that made up his _soul_ through it- the metal was warm and almost silky against her opening, heated from the light of his eye and moistened with her own fluids and the feeling of him dragging it straight across her clit and pushing up into her was starting to make the tension inside of her rise to nearly-unbearable levels already- desperate for more, she started to sway her hips in time with him, willing him to go _faster_ , to press _harder._

"Easy now, luv," he said, pressing harder only to make her stop- he was still going maddeningly slow. "Easy. Slow down, luv, I want this to last… it is Christmas, after all…"

And he just kept _doing_ that. Stroking and stroking and stroking and Chell thought she was going to snap accidentally and take things into her own hands- it took all of her willpower to lay still and let him pleasure her the way that he liked best. Because she wanted to, and he was right, she _did_ like it- but he was so _slow_ and she was desperate and- as he did this tantalizing little _flick_ thing against her with his optic she thought she was going to lose her head entirely.

It was when he was going softly again, teasing and teasing and teasing, when suddenly he'd leaned in and twitched hard and she'd _squeaked_. She had not known she could _squeak_ until that moment- and it made Wheatley look up and stare at her in surprise before his optic plates slid into a huge, pleased smile.

"Did _I_ make you do that?" he asked her happily. "Oh, that's _brilliant_ \- by doing it like that, hmm? Just like—" he tried again, and Chell felt the same noise escape her throat, "—that? Oh, that is nice! That is brilliant! That's just bloody adorable. Let me try again—"

And so he did- alternating between light teasing and firm little presses, Chell started to make noise- but she needed _more._ With a more intense squirm, she reached down and started pulling gently at the sides of his handles.

"Oo, impatient, are we?" he murmured. "Mm, well… we'll see about that…"

What he did next was so _good_ \- he oscillated the little servos inside of him that were responsible for making him shiver, and the effect was a light vibration which he directed right onto where he _knew_ was most sensitive so very carefully and lovingly, but he did not stop rubbing, either- he'd lift up to press down from the top before sliding lower to press straight in and she felt herself grow hot with desire.

"How about that? Is that helping?" he asked cheerfully. "Is that good, luv? Mm, I bet it is- you should see yourself. You look beautiful…"

More rubbing and vibrating, and Chell felt her breath hitch. He just kept talking… and kept smiling… and it was so _adorable_ and what he was doing felt so _good-_ while he buzzed away, she felt the stimulation reach a point where she had finally stopped aching for it so intensely and was able to mentally relax enough to let it fill her the rest of the way up. Thrusting with him gently, her skin became sticky with sweat and her eyes drifted closed as she honed in on the feeling, willing herself not to come too soon and ruin it.

And still, he was talking- "Oh, I bet you're close. Sooo close, but can't finish yet, can you, luv? Not yet. Not yet, because I don't want you to, yet- want you to _properly_ enjoy this. 'Cause I do, you know, enjoy this too, you're so beautiful when you're- when we're together. And as I've said before, your legs- and you're so wonderfully lubricated, now- wonderful, luv."

The vibrating sensation was becoming more intense as he spoke- Chell bit back another squeak as he repositioned and leaned in with sharp, rhythmic little pulses against her. Finally, she felt the world slowly start to disappear- god, it felt so good—

"Mm, that's it. That's it, luv. Just a little more… Mm, yes."

More vibration, more pressure, and her back was arching firmly- Chell felt the pleasure peaking fast as her body reacted with anticipation—

"Yes, oh, wonderful!" he was cheering, vibrating hard for her in just the right spot. "Come on, luv, for Wheatley—!"

The flood that followed was so intense and so sudden- she gasped and trembled, shaking as every muscle tensed with the overflow of pleasure. Wheatley moaned and worked her through this until little stars started to wink in front of her eyes- she could barely even hear his voice through it, talking and coaxing all the while until she slumped back, exhausted and satisfied.

With a wave she returned to reality- the cozy, warm living room with its merrily crackling fire, and the little core on the couch placed so happily between her legs- looking up at her with the most-pleased expression yet.

"Brilliant, luv," he purred.

She pulled him up, close to her face to snuggle him in thanks-grabbing the throw blanket to gently dab at his face (she'd throw it in the wash tomorrow) before they sunk into the couch and sighed. Her breath and the fast cycling of Wheatley's CPU eventually leveled out together as they rest with one of her hands closed loosely over his bottom handle and Wheatley's eye shutters closed for her comfort.

She was suddenly so sleepy- and, deciding to forgo the trip to the bedroom entirely, she snuggled into the core. Wheatley murmured contentedly in reply and held as still as he could while she fell asleep, her back to the warmth of the fire.

But Wheatley stayed awake long past when she had fallen asleep, thinking deeply as he watched snow flick past the windows as the fire burnt itself out- he thought about her, and he thought about the world he now found himself living inside of, and about how she was now an indispensable part of his life—

And finally, he thought about how much he loved her.

With all the gentleness of the falling snow outside, Wheatley pressed his optic to her cheek.

"Merry Christmas, luv."


End file.
